Published: Sunday, March 3, 2013 at 5:30 a.m.

Last Modified: Saturday, March 2, 2013 at 7:53 p.m.

There is no local issue as divisive and emotional as beach driving. Not taxation. Not growth management. Not special events. Nothing.

And like all divisive and emotional issues, it lends itself to absolutes.

Beach driving is our identity, selling point and a treasured memory of growing up here, and yielding any driving space means someday closing the beach to cars. Or beach driving is messing up our beach, killing children and is something no sane place would countenance, so we should have cleared the beach of cars years ago. Take your pick.

Since the future of beach driving is always said to hang in the balance, there are no small debates over controlling cars.

Yet here we are, still driving on a beach with scattered no-drive zones.

One of the great things about having 50 miles of beach is that Volusia has all styles of beach. Busy urban beaches, peaceful natural beaches, surfer beaches, fishing beaches, beach-walker beaches, and yes, 17 miles where you can drive a car.

What you want, we got.

Driving is part of that mix because without beach driving and parking it's hard to get on the beach. Without driving, long stretches would be a virtual private beach, just for people in hotels, condos and beach homes.

Here's what the county's charter says: "Because prohibiting motor vehicle access to the beaches would deny beach use to many, the council shall authorize, as permitted by law, vehicular access to any part of the beach not reasonably accessible from public parking facilities."

Driving isn't going to go away except as the result of a surprising court action or a dramatic rewriting of the county charter approved by voters.

Beach driving has survived new no-drive zones, beachgoer deaths, post-storm beach erosion, the move from city to county oversight, the end of night driving and numerous lawsuits (including one where the Florida Supreme Court ruling talked about "this lethal mixture of cars and reclining persons").

Once every limit on beach driving stops being the End of the Beach as We Know It, the rest is just traffic control.

And the traffic-control argument is compelling when it comes to Ormond Beach's Andy Romano Beachfront Park.

"For me, it's almost a no-brainer," County Councilwoman Joyce Cusack said. "Why would we put a park that kids are going to be running to and from, and have folks be able to drive past it?"

"If we don't do this, we're driving cars through a playground," County Councilwoman Pat Northey said.

Still, it was a close 4-3 vote.

And after those 200 yards of beach are closed to cars, beach driving will continue to the north and beach driving will continue to the south.

Someday there will be another fight about cars on the beach somewhere else and then that vote will be about the End of the Beach as We Know It. And whatever the result, beach driving will roll on.

<p>There is no local issue as divisive and emotional as beach driving. Not taxation. Not growth management. Not special events. Nothing. </p><p>And like all divisive and emotional issues, it lends itself to absolutes. </p><p>Beach driving is our identity, selling point and a treasured memory of growing up here, and yielding any driving space means someday closing the beach to cars. Or beach driving is messing up our beach, killing children and is something no sane place would countenance, so we should have cleared the beach of cars years ago. Take your pick. </p><p>Since the future of beach driving is always said to hang in the balance, there are no small debates over controlling cars. </p><p>Yet here we are, still driving on a beach with scattered no-drive zones. </p><p>One of the great things about having 50 miles of beach is that Volusia has all styles of beach. Busy urban beaches, peaceful natural beaches, surfer beaches, fishing beaches, beach-walker beaches, and yes, 17 miles where you can drive a car. </p><p>What you want, we got. </p><p>Driving is part of that mix because without beach driving and parking it's hard to get on the beach. Without driving, long stretches would be a virtual private beach, just for people in hotels, condos and beach homes. </p><p>Here's what the county's charter says: "Because prohibiting motor vehicle access to the beaches would deny beach use to many, the council shall authorize, as permitted by law, vehicular access to any part of the beach not reasonably accessible from public parking facilities." </p><p>Driving isn't going to go away except as the result of a surprising court action or a dramatic rewriting of the county charter approved by voters. </p><p>Beach driving has survived new no-drive zones, beachgoer deaths, post-storm beach erosion, the move from city to county oversight, the end of night driving and numerous lawsuits (including one where the Florida Supreme Court ruling talked about "this lethal mixture of cars and reclining persons"). </p><p>Once every limit on beach driving stops being the End of the Beach as We Know It, the rest is just traffic control. </p><p>And the traffic-control argument is compelling when it comes to Ormond Beach's Andy Romano Beachfront Park. </p><p>"For me, it's almost a no-brainer," County Councilwoman Joyce Cusack said. "Why would we put a park that kids are going to be running to and from, and have folks be able to drive past it?" </p><p>"If we don't do this, we're driving cars through a playground," County Councilwoman Pat Northey said. </p><p>Still, it was a close 4-3 vote. </p><p>And after those 200 yards of beach are closed to cars, beach driving will continue to the north and beach driving will continue to the south. </p><p>Someday there will be another fight about cars on the beach somewhere else and then that vote will be about the End of the Beach as We Know It. And whatever the result, beach driving will roll on.</p>